Back To Green
by everlark-fanfic
Summary: Post-Mockingjay and Epilogue. My reading in between the last lines of Mockingjay and Epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**Back To Green Ch. 1**

_His face is flushed from digging up the ground under the windows. In a wheelbarrow are five scraggly bushes._

_"You're back," I say._

_"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," Peeta says. "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending like he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."_

_He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He's frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a halfhearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it's matted into clumps. I feel defensive. "What are you doing?"_

_"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," he says. "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."_

_I look at the bushes, the clods of dirt hanging from their roots, and catch my breath as the work _**_rose _**_registers. I'm about to yell vicious things at Peeta when the full name comes to me. Not plain rose but evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for. I give Peeta a nod of assent and hurry back into the house, locking the door behind me._

In a few hours, morning reveals itself, bringing in a fresh batch of radiating sunlight and the potential of happiness.

I will not give it that satisfaction.

After getting myself dressed, I gently make my way downstairs. My footsteps make little to no noise after all these years of being forced to remain quiet while hunting in the woods with Gale.

_Gale_

This is the first time his presence has made it's way voluntarily into my mind. Other than the nightmares of him shoveling ashes and dirt onto me along with the other innocent people I have so cruelly affected, whether they be dead or alive.

There is this slight moment of worry combined with uncertainty, but it's very brief, and it's gone as quickly as it had arrived.

I decide to mention Gale to Greasy Sae during breakfast, maybe she has a bit of and inkling as to where he is or what he might me doing.

_Over the eggs, I ask her, "Where did Gale go?"_

_"District Two. Got some fancy job there. I see him now and again on the television," she says._

_I dig around inside myself, trying to register anger, hatred, longing. I find only relief._

I announce to Greasy Sae that I will go hunting today, bringing home some fresh game for her to cook. Not because I want any, because I can only imagine how limited she feels not having anything to cook but eggs and maybe a squirrel on occasion.

When I turn the corner of Victors Village, I run into one of Gale's old crew mates and he assures me of a nightmare I had chosen to ignore.

Madge is dead, along with her entire family.

I wonder, as I continue my trek towards the meadow, if she will be joining Gale and the others in my nightmares tonight. I give a small bit of a giggle that can only mirror one of a person of hysterics, as I find my last thought slightly humorous.

_Of course she will be in my nightmares tonight. _I think as I approach mine and Gale's former meeting place.

_I sit on the rock where Cressida filmed us, but it's too wide without his body beside me. Several times I close my eyes and count to ten, thinking that when I open them, he will have materialized without a sound as he so often did. I have to remind myself that Gale's in 2 with a fancy job, probably kissing another pair of lips._

The thought becomes unbearable.

After receiving the shock of Prim's cat, Buttercup, turning up instead of Gale, I begin my journey back home. Buttercup trails behind, meowing like an idiot. He believes I'm leading him to Prim. He's such a stupid cat, and ugly too.

When I get home he welcomes himself in and begins moving all about the house, as if searching for my sister.

_"It was a waste of a trip. She's not here," I tell him. Buttercup hisses again. "She's not here, you can hiss all you like. You won't find Prim." At her name, he perks up. Raises his flattened ears. Begins to meow hopefully. "Get out!" He dodges the pillow I throw at him. "Go away! There's nothing left for you here!" I start to shake, furious with him. "She's not coming back! She's never ever coming back here again!" I grab another pillow and get to my feet to improve my aim. Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. "She's dead!"_

Many days go by in which Buttercup and I form and unspoken bond. Prim's death has brought me farther away from others, but closer to him. She was both of our lives, the only thing we saw joy in.

But now she was gone. Now, all that's left is the mourning thoughts of her that Buttercup and I provide.

One morning, Peeta joins Greasy Sae and I for breakfast. He bears a warm loaf of bread.

_She makes us breakfast and I feed all my bacon to Buttercup._

She shakes her head at me and scolds me, saying things resembling "you wouldn't have thought twice about eating good meat back then," and walks out the front door, leaving Peeta and I alone.

She's right. I wouldn't have. I would have been grateful to even have a meat of such luxury sitting on my plate in front of me.

"It's okay, I know you don't particularly care bacon," Peeta says, finishing up the last bit of his breakfast and sliding his plate away from his reach when he is finished.

"What?" I ask him, idiotically, after a few brief moments of silence in which I was trying to conjure what had happened.

He meets my gaze, more purposefully this time, and speaks to me. "I remember."

I didn't need that, his beautiful azure blue eyes spoke out loud everything he was trying to say. Just for a mere second, I think that things will be good again. My Peeta will come back. He clears his throat, "On the train, you mentioned to me that you didn't like bacon."

He steps up, bringing his plate over to the sink to rinse it off.

I frown. "Oh." Is all I can manage to say.

He's gone again. My Peeta. My Peeta that I missed so dearly.

_Do I really miss him? _I ask myself. _Of course I do. So much._

I stand myself up and drag myself over to him, lingering behind him for a few seconds. I encircle my arms around his waist and lean my head on his back.

At first, he is genuinely stunned by my bold action, but softens a bit after getting used to the feeling.

"I miss you." I whisper to the air mostly, barley audible for even me to hear.

Although, Peeta most certainly hears it.

He begins to rumble and shake. He drops the plate he was rinsing on the ground and it smashes into many small pieces. He grips onto the side of the sink so hard that his knuckles begin to turn an almost light blue color. It takes me a moment to realize he's having an episode.

"Not real, Peeta, not real." I say soothingly but assuringly while stroking his back. I repeat myself many times. After a while it becomes some sort of tedious chant. He's beginning to growl and grunt.

"Get away Katniss" he says calmly. I can tell it's taking all his strength and power to not lunge in my direction and strangle me.

"Peeta, no, It's not re-"

"Get _away_ from me Katniss, you're gonna get yourself hurt" He repeats sternly. He looks vicious, not like my Peeta. Not like the Peeta who could make a crowd stand still and listen with just a few of his wise words. Not like the Peeta who would always mange to show a calm demeanor, even in some of our most horrifying situations.

I will do anything to get him back.

So I begin to sing to him. Just like in my chambers after I shot Coin. Ballad after Ballad. The Hanging Tree, Rue's Lullaby, even The Valley Song. The song that which Peeta had first noticed me. He had told me that one night in the cave during our first games.

He struggles at first, trying to wriggle his way from my grasp. But my arms are strong, I will not let him go, not yet. Then, after a few more minutes of hearing my voice, he begins to soften. His eyelids droop closed and his knuckles return to their normal color. He turns slowly in my arms and slowly opens his deep blue eyes. "Y-you're back" He sleepily looks down at me, a soft smile threatening to pull up the corners of his lips.

"No Peeta," I reach up to caress his soft face in my right hand, "I never left, I stayed right here. You left."

He looks pained, closing his eyes again and leaning his head back slightly. "You were a mutt. A beast-type thing. You tried to kill me. Real or not real?"

"Not real," I add on, "I did't leave you. I stayed right here Peeta. I'm never going to leave you." He starts to say something else but I hush him.

I need to be there for Peeta. He would do it for me.

"Thank you" he says genuinely before lowering himself into a squat and attempting to pick up the shattered pieces of the plate he dropped earlier.

"No" I tell him gently, "go rest." I nod my head towards the steps indicating for him to go and sleep for a few minutes. He looks at me with an expression of shock and somewhat disbelief. "I'm not going to hurt you Peeta, I promise." I assure him.

He nods gently, "Okay, Katniss." He carefully steps over the shattered shards and makes his way towards my room. I'll wake him for supper with Sae.

I carry on diligently picking up the broken pieces for quite a while. When I am finished, I grab my bow from the closet and head towards the woods to hunt some game for supper. Sae says we can afford Capitol meat now, but we all agree that that isn't as good as fresh game.

Once I get to the woods I pull my father's quiver of arrows from our hollow tree trunk and silently step deeper into the woods. _My Woods._

_I try to follow Dr. Aurelius's advice, just going through motions, amazed when one finally has a meaning again._

I feel alarmed when I catch myself smiling as I'm finished skinning the 2 rabbits I shot. It felt gratifying, like old times. With my father. I'm genuinely happy again. For the first time since the Games. For the first times since Peeta was taken from me. For the first time since my beloved little sister, Prim, passed.

For the first time in a while


	2. Chapter 2

Back To Green Ch. 2.

_I tell him my idea about the book, and a large box of parchment sheets arrives on the next train from the Capitol._

_I got the idea from my family's plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot rust to memory._

"Does this look okay, Katniss?" Peeta holds up a delicately drawn still of Rue, _poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight._

"Its lovely, Peeta, thank you" I nod my head in appreciation and begin to paste the photo onto one of the pages in the book.

He grins. "Your welcome." He tells me, and leans in to quickly kiss me on the cheek.

The act is so bold, so spontaneous, that it is as if I have turned into a statue. I'm frozen still, staring at the page of Rue, trying to comprehend. Peeta, however, goes back to his original position and attempts to add on the names of tributes that he and I had small encounters with.

I contemplate on asking him, but my mind seems to be elsewhere. I cannot keep the words from leaving my lips "You just kissed me, real or not real?" My voice comes across a combination of disbelief and exasperation. Almost aggression. I do not want to seem angry at him.

In fact, that is the opposite of what I am. I am just curious.

He looks contrite, guilty even. I am just about to assure him of his innocence when he says, "Real. You want me to do it again, real or not real?"

Without thinking, I blurt out, "Real." I barely have enough time to counteract my comment before he softly kisses me again. This time, not my cheek.

He kisses my lips.

Its foreign at first. Sweet and gentle, but still foreign. I have not felt his lips on mine for the longest of times, as it seems.

It feels so, incredulously, good.

_Real_, I tell myself. _This is real. All of it._

Peeta is kissing me. I am kissing him. There is nothing between us but the smallest of spaces.

And it feels amazing.

Peeta's lips detach from mine a short while after. He just gulps, his adams apple bobbing up and down, as if to show nervousness. Surely he wouldn't be nervous, would he? After all, he was the one who ignited it to begin with. "I-uh, um. . ." he stumbles with his words. This comes as shock to me. Peeta is not one to be at a loss for words.

I breathe out deeply and crack a small smile. "Your lips taste like peppermint." I let out a faint, breathy laugh as my front teeth latch onto my bottom lip. I feel prickly heat dance upon my cheeks. I am blushing. Hard.

He nods. "That makes sense, I had some tea earlier." His voice seems to be back again.

I look at him, our eyes boring into each others for what seems to be an endless amount of time. My eyes break away while I delicately place the book to the side and lean into him, placing my head on his chest, my fingers sprawled against it.

He exhales deeply and tightens his arms around me.

"Can you stay here for the night?" I ask him timidly. I don't want him to think I am being to forward, yet, I would do anything for him to say yes.

He takes his time replying "Of course" he tells me eventually.

We work on our book all day. By sundown, I have gotten used to his kisses. I know he thinks that I am comfortable with them because he does it increasingly often. It's as if he needs to kiss me as much as he can before it is all over. Although, I'm not entirely sure what "it" is, and I'm beginning to get the idea that Peeta doesn't either.

But, it isn't like I mind.

Greasy Sae comes for supper, her granddaughter prancing in behind her. We politely greet her as she begins to start cooking, straight away. Sae is, as always, elated that she has some of my fresh game to prepare tonight. I find it almost refreshing that someone can be so happy about the smallest of things. I secretly hope that one day I will be able to seek joy in my surroundings, like I had when I was younger.

Sae's granddaughter sits in front of Peeta and I on the floor. I believe her name is Valeria. She's nice, very pretty. How old is she again? 9 years old? Almost. Just.

"How are you?" she says calmly as she sits.

"I'm well" I answer.

I cannot help but notice her maturity. Every time she visits, she's always on her best behavior.

She must have been through a lot, for only the best of behaviors come from the most horrific of experiences. Suddenly, a hollow pang of sadness rushes through me.

I realize that she's probably with Greasy Sae at most times because something may have happened to her parents. Something awful, forcing her to grow up, to look at life through different eyes.

_I'm sorry this happened to you. _ I think to myself. _I'm sorry you've grown up, I'm sorry you cannot be a kid anymore._

I truly am sorry. Children we already forced before to mature during the Games. It makes me sick to know that it's still happening.

It's terrifying to think about, sickening even. But, no matter how much you refuse it to be true, It is.

_We're still just pieces in their games._

We have stew for supper, rabbit stew. It's good, as usual. Anything Greasy Sae makes is good.

The sun is well set by the time Sae and Valeria leave.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta yawn deeply as he is assisting me in cleaning up.

"Are you tired?" I ask him soothingly.

"Huh?" He turns around, rubbing a tired eye "Oh, um, no I'm not, it's okay, we should finish cleaning up first." He turns back to the sink and continues rinsing off a pot.

"Peeta," I say more assertively, "go to sleep, we can finish in the morning."

He blinks back sleepy eyes and nods. "Yeah, okay."

"Let's go." I whisper to him. I grab Peeta's hand and slowly ascend the stairs, mostly because I am tired as well. I find a nightgown in my drawer and head towards the bathroom. "Get to bed" I tell him and walk into the bathroom.

As I'm getting dressed, I smile to myself. I have 2 other beds in my house, but of course I want Peeta to stay in mine. Judging by his lack of resistance and questioning, so does he.

I don't think about it too much, why I enjoy Peeta's company and his warmth beside me as I drift off into sleep. Mostly because I'm afraid of telling myself that its true.

_That I actually might love Peeta._

I turn to face him already feeling my eyelids getting droopy. He sleepily smiles at me. "Sleep." He whispers and kisses my forehead.

I nod and move over to kiss his lips before drifting off completely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Back to Green Ch. 3**

Her name is leaving my lips as I rouse from sleep.

"Prim." I mumble my late sisters name halfheartedly, as I'm still part asleep.

"No, it's me." He calls out.

I shoot up, darting my eyes around until I find who's there.

Peeta stands at the doorframe, no belt on his shorts, shirt buttons either mis-buttoned or completely undone.

_Oh, that's right. _Peeta stayed with me last night. Just the thought of that brings a small smile to my lips.

"Oh, hi." I laugh, trying to cover my embarrassment. My smile beams just a little more.

He exhales "What?" he inches towards me. I shake my head. "What? What is it, Katniss?" He asks me, laughing also.

His soft yet calloused hand reaches up to delicately guide my face up so that my grey eyes meet his blue ones. Even though I can tell he's enforcing seriousness, the ends of his lips threaten to tug upwards, but Peeta is desperately trying to keep them down.

I nod my head "I'm just," I let out another awkward, breathy laugh, "I'm just very happy you're here."

Now it's Peeta's turn to smile. He leans forward and embraces me tightly. "Me too."

Peeta made cheese buns for breakfast. He says it's because he knows they're my favorite but him and I both know that he enjoys them equally as much.

Although, I am still happy to know that he remembered that I loved them.

We have extra dishes this morning because we didn't finish cleaning last night. But when Greasy Sae joins us, adding scrambled eggs and bacon to our meal, she offers to clean for us with a big smile on her face.

"You go have fun." She insists after breakfast. She grabs my bow and adds, "And bring me home something good."

"Alright." I go and fetch Peeta, who is staring contently through the window. I run my hand through his somewhat disheveled blonde locks "Lets go." I say.

"Go where?" he turns and rests his head on my shoulder, swaying slightly. I play with his hair some more.

I'm a bit tired suddenly. I don't want to move from this spot, holding on to Peeta as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck.

My mind drifts back in time to the training center roof. When our roles were reversed, and Peeta was fiddling with my hair. When there was only hope for one of us, not both. We were both trying to keep each other alive.

He said something about wanting to live in the moment forever. I didn't understand Peeta's full intentions until now.

I wish I could freeze this moment and live in it forever.

It's different now. In some ways worse, but in others better. We both have hope. Hope for Peeta to make a complete recovery and hope for me to let go of the numbness and let the pain eventually subside.

"The woods, we need to eat, don't we?" I smirk.

Peeta lifts his head "I'll scare off game." He's gestures to his leg "I can't go."

"Yes, you can, Peeta." I say dismissively, "You're fine." I pull him alongside of me, and urge him outside the house.

The meadow is a pale yellow and sickly grey color. Just the sight of the emptiness and the memories of the lush vegetation makes me taste bile.

I help Peeta under the fence, but his new leg makes it difficult to do so. We manage, though.

Peeta's right. He does scare off game, but I am able to shoot a few squirrels that are high up in the trees and away from earshot.

I am just about to shoot a fat looking rabbit when Peeta falls to the ground, loudly. The rabbit darts off in the other direction.

I turn to Peeta, exasperated. He looks at me innocently and I try to hide my grin as I help him up. "I'm not a very good hunting parter, am I?" He laughs gently.

"Neither am I" I lead him down to my old meeting place with Gale. We sit in front of the rock and as much as I hate to admit it, even though Peeta is sitting promptly beside me, I cant help but feel as if there's and emptiness where Gale used to be. "I used to sit here with Gale, we would go hunting and sit right here afterwards." I pat Peeta's good leg.

"Oh." Is all he says as he looks around, taking in his surroundings. He squints at certain places as if he's trying to conjure the specific color he would have to use to put them in a painting.

That might be one of the main differences between Peeta and I.

I hunt vigorously, killing almost any animal that I think would be put in good use, either for food or apparel or anything else. Peeta makes beautiful paintings and delicious cakes and pastries. He can stop a crowd and change their point of views just by using his golden tongue.

Peeta creates. I destroy.

"Peeta. . ." I nudge him, wanting him to say something more.

"Was I friends with Gale?" he asks plainly, "Were we close?"

"Not really" His question startles me, so I avert my eyes from Peeta and stare back out in front of me.

"So I hated him?" He asks, this time with a trace of disbelief.

"Not exactly. You both had more of. . ." I trail off, trying to come up with the right words for his better understanding. "An unspoken tension." conclude.

He thinks it over for a while and then nods his head in understanding.

Before we get home Peeta asks if we can stop by his house to pick something up.

"I'll be right back" He kisses my forehead and then quickly hurries off into an unknown room.

We must live in different neighborhoods, because his house looks almost nothing like mine, despite the similar exterior.

I knew Haymitch's house was different but this is completely distinguishable. I take my time to look around, taking in the vast hallways and the grand staircase. Maybe it's bigger because Peeta had a larger family than mine.

I run my hand over bottom of the railing, leading up to the enormous banister where Peeta is heading down. He holds a dark skinned leather briefcase in his hand.

"Peeta, what's in that?" I point to the briefcase.

"Paints." He takes hold of my hand and leads me out of the house. "Canvas. You know, art materials."

"Oh." I say as we approach my house, which is just across the street from his.

"I figured I would paint the meadow," he looks over at me "For you." He grins down at me.

I give him a soft smile in return as we make our way through my door. "Why for me?" I ask him. I lay myself down on the couch while Peeta opens the briefcase.

Inside are capsules upon capsules of various color paints, brushes and sponges of all shapes and sizes.

He pulls a standard canvas out of a compartment and sets it up on a wooden easel. Laying his assortment of colors, he stops to think for a moment. Peeta looks up at me "Because I care about you." He tells me, and then nods, reassuring himself.

My whole face lights up and for the rest of the day I cannot stop hearing his words on repeat.

_Because I care about you._

Peeta delicately paints and I carefully watch for the remainder of the day.

Then, once night time falls, he and I lay tangled together, enjoying each others embrace.

Before I fall completely into slumber, Peeta asks, "Katniss, you said Gale and I had an unspoken tension?" in no more than a whisper.

I turn to face him. "Yes, I did." I attempt to not my head but we are so close to the touch, that I just find my chin nudging his chest.

He clears his throat "Was it because you didn't know who loved you more, Gale and I?".

I make an effort to meet his eyes with mine. Even in the darkness they are a brilliant shade of blue.

"Oh, Peeta," I begin, "no one could ever love me more than you did."


	4. Chapter 4

**Back to Green Ch. 4.**

"What do you think about?" I ask Peeta over breakfast.

"You" he sips on the hot chocolate we were shipped from the Capitol. It's been our favorite ever since the first games.

"No, I mean when you're baking bread" I gesture to the many pastries and breads on the table, "there's gotta be some feeling you get when you bake."

Like the feeling I get when I hunt. Or, more so, the feeling I _used _to get when I hunted. At the moment, its more of an interpretation of my past. It's an illegitimate feeling, but a feeling nonetheless.

Peeta laughs. "I don't know, Katniss. I just do it." He shakes his overgrown hair out of his eyes.

"Yea, right." I reach over and tug on his blond locks. "Can I cut your hair? Its gotten awfully long."

Again, he laughs. "How do you know how to cut hair?" he mocks me.

"I would cut my fathers hair" I tell him softly and trail off for a bit, but quickly return. I clear my throat. "They had to keep it short, you know, for the mines."

He nods his head. "Of course, but what makes you think I wanted my hair short?"

"I don't know," I tell him truthfully, "what makes you think I was going to cut it that way?"

He narrows his eyes at me.

"You," he stands up and drops our remnants of our breakfast plates in the waste bin, then turns towards me, "are very clever."

As always, after breakfast we work on the book.

_Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie's newborn son._

The picture had come through mail. I figured that it was yet another check up message from Dr. Aurelius or my mother. Although, when I saw it in the top right corner of the envelope, my desire to open a letter was far more great than it had been with the others. Because right there, in neat handwriting that could only be derived from compulsiveness, right there it was written. "Annie Cresta-Odair."

It wasn't until I had opened the letter that I released a breath I had not known I had been holding. Inside the letter, was a picture of Finnick and Annie's gorgeous son.

He has Finnick's eyes.

"Peeta, he's beautiful." I trace my thumb down the side on the photo, as to run it down his small cheekbone, trying to decipher if I'm imagining this or not.

"His name is Finn," Peeta rests himself behind me, holding his hands up to caress the picture with mine, "short for Finnick. A memory of but not a constant reminder."

"Thats nice, very smart." I tell him.

Thats good that Annie wont have to live with that everyday.

She'll mourn when it is time for mourning.

And suddenly, for one of the first times ever, I become envious of the poor mad girl in District 4 looking after an infant, and I long for a child.

I try to shake the feeling as Peeta reaches down and kisses my cheek, but it never seems to go away, even when he circles the couch and kisses my lips.

"Kiss me" he whispers when my lips don't move with his, and steadies my hair behind my ear.

"I am." I tell him stiffly, not moving an inch.

Peeta lets out a deep sigh and falls onto his back. "What's bothering you?" he asks from the opposite end of the couch and I tangle my feet with his. He shakes the hair out of his eyes.

"Can I cut your hair?" I change the subject.

After a bit of argument I have Peeta sat down outside with a pair of scissors clipping gently at the ends of his hair.

"You know, Katniss, I'm trusting you here." He tells me dubiously, trying desperately to keep his head still, as if averting more damage to be done.

I roll my eyes, but smile some. I say, "Peeta, my dear. When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?" and he laughs out loud.

After I've finished, Peeta strangely resembles the young man who had been reaped for the 74th Hunger Games. Young. Handsome. _Innocent_.

More Innocent than he could ever be, with everything that has happened to all of us.

But, of course, it's just an appearance.

As I sweep the blonde locks over the edge of the wooden floors, his arms find my waist.

"Thank you" he says, "I admit I was a bit worried on how it would turn out" he's breath is dancing gently on my neck and I shiver.

"Why is that?" I tease, turning around to face him. He's already smiling down at me. Peeta has a beautiful smile.

He chuckles and shrugs, "Believe it or not, sweetheart, but I care about how I look" and then it's my turn to laugh.

"Oh, since _when_?" I question, raising my eyebrow to match my uncertainty. I never actually thought Peeta would care about his looks, as that would most certainly be the least of his problems.

"Not sure exactly" he raises his hands and says, "can we go inside?"

Only then I realize it's begun to rain.

Mostly, I whine to myself when I say, "We wont have anything good for supper tonight" and latch the window that had been blown open by the violent torrent outside our doors.

"Well, we can bake something?" Peeta suggests.

"We?" I say unbelievingly.

And he shows me how to bake. Until sundown we make various breads and pastries and just when I think we're finished Peeta pulls out yet another recipe.

"Just _one _more, Katniss" he pleads and I let out a deep sigh. "This one's a good one" he hands me the square piece of paper and everything falls silent as my eyes linger on the words.

It's a recipe for raisin nut bread, and my lip quivers as I remember.

I look up and meet Peeta's eyes with my teary ones. "Let's bake this" he says gently, "I want you to try it when it isn't burnt."

And for probably the hundredth time tonight, we bake again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Back to Green Ch. 5**

At least once in someone's life, I believe, one should feel content with the world. Carefree, not a single dreaded thought.

I try to become that person as dawn breaks and the sunlight shadows Peeta's blond eyelashes.

I marvel at him for a while as he sleeps, realizing how his handsome face has matched up with his beautiful heart.

His eyes open slowly. Just long enough to give me enough time to sneak out of the room without being noticed.

"No, please" I hear a faint whisper just before I'm completely out of the doorframe. I turn and see Peeta just barley awake, arms extended towards me, as if trying to reach for me. "Come here."

I walk over to him and sit myself on his good leg. "I'm going to the woods today" I tell him as I play wish his freshly-cut hair. "Do you want to go with me?"

He laughs and pushes my hand away, "Katniss, you're joking. Tell me you're joking."

I shake my head, "I figured if you teach my how to bake, I have to teach you how to hunt. Properly" I say.

"It doesn't work that way." He reaches for my hand and pecks it softly.

I furrow my eyebrows and say, "What doesn't work that way?" then go back to playing with his hair.

Peeta opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, realizing the importance of his words. He grins "Never mind, lets go."

Again we go to the woods and, as always, we pass the meadow. I stop.

It's yellow. Dry. Disturbed. It's a visual representation of District 12, besides District 12. And every time I walk by the meadow, it pains me. It pains me to see something so beautiful go to waste. The one thing we could have had is gone.

"It's never coming back" I say aloud.

Peeta stops and looks back at me, "Sure it will, Katniss, just give it time." He tugs on my hand to pull me farther down the street.

"No, Peeta, you don't understand. Its _never _going to come back. We're _never _going to have our meadow back."

Then, just like that, I start to cry.

We don't go hunting that day. Nor do we bake. Peeta calls over Greasy Sae and she makes us supper for the first time in a while.

She leaves after she cooks almost as fast as she came and I cry out for her.

"She's not well" Peeta tells Sae about me. "We're both not well."

Sae nods and leaves.

"That wasn't fair." I tell Peeta and run up the stairs.

One may think it was childish, how I ache every time I think of the meadow. How my emotions got the best of me today and I let my imprisoned tears roam freely.

I had misjudged myself. I had let myself believe I was the person I misjudged.

I'm not strong. I'm not brave. I'm not someone to look up to.

I'm weak. I am a weak soul trapped in a misjudged image and there is no going back. For both myself and misjudged me. It's always going to be like this.

Peeta leaves me to my own thoughts before he comes in to check on me.

"It's not fair," he tells me, "what's happened to us. It isn't. But I hope one day we can let go. One day we can finally go towards forever." He kisses the tears off my cheeks.

"But how do we know?" I cry out. "How will we _ever _know when to move on?!" I choke on my own hysterical sobs.

Peeta strokes my hair and shushes me gently "How do you know you haven't already started?" he smiles down at me "Come here" he reaches down and embraces me in his strong arms that have comforted me for all these nights, but it has never felt more genuine in the time I have known Peeta until now.

I pull him beside me and kiss his cheek. "Thank you." I look over at him and he smiles sweetly at me. I smile back then frown a bit. "oh, Peeta, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking at all about you today" I reach over and stoke his face with the side of my thumb.

"Katniss, it's okay" he chuckles, "I only worry when you worry, I'm fine once I see you're all right." He says.

I blush. "I wish you would stop doing that" I tell him.

"Doing what?" He asks.

"Being so. . . incredible" I sigh happily.

Then, he kisses me.

Not the sweet kisses I've been getting for the past few months, no. These are passionate and filled with, dare I say, _love?_

It's surreal to think about, insane even.

But in this moment, with Peeta kissing me, and my tears drying away, I feel it too. The passion. The desire. The _love_.

After a while, when I've regained my illusion of strength, I thank him. "For being here for me."

Then, he tells me "Katniss, I told you. I'm okay if you're okay." and I accept it.

There comes a time when you have so much to handle, so much inside you, that you might as well break down. But then there's that person, that dandelion in the spring that couldn't represent anything but happiness.

And you have to throw that all away. That feeling you get when somethings not there. That ache inside when you miss your loved ones. That weakness in you that could turn you vulnerable to anything at any minute.

Because, you realize, you can't be anything but happy when you're with that person, and they shouldn't feel anything but happy when they're with you.

So you hold back your tears, you stand tall, _and you let yourself become that misjudged person._

And then, before I close my eyes to finally sleep, I listen to the chirps of the crickets, and the howls of the owls, and try to appreciate the sounds of nature. And, if it weren't for me listening so closely, I might have not heard Peeta softly whisper,

"I love you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Back to Green Ch. 6**

No.

No, Peeta doesn't love me.

No, Peeta doesn't understand what love is.

No, Peeta's hijacked. He cannot and will never see me as someone he can love.

No, no, "NO!"

Peeta stirs quickly and searches for something, anything. "W-what is it, are you hurt?" he panics.

Shallow breaths, I make, to evacuate my mind of its current dizziness. Maybe I could croak out a coherent word, but he odds are slim. I stifle a sob.

I clear my throat and wipe the dry tears off of my cheeks and I whisper, "I'm fine"

Peeta turns the lamp on and sees the dried stains. His face softens, "Hey" he says gently, and I lean into him as he makes an effort to blot the tears off with the side of his thumb. "Nightmare?" he asks.

"Sort of" I say distantly.

"Okay." he says, "Hey, hey, Katniss, look here." Peeta motions to his eyes, "you're all right" he smiles, and I nod in appreciation.

I sniffle and wipe my nose with the side of my nightgown's sleeve, "What time is it?" my voice croaks as if it had not been used for a thousand years.

Peeta checks the gently ticking clock on the wall and says, "Three-forty" and I go back to sleep.

When I wake again, Peeta is still unconscious. Judging by the way his mouth hangs open and his deep snores, I assume he won't be wake for a long time.

I make breakfast. Eggs and bread, again. I find some butter and scrape the darkened yellow coating off of it, making it decent to consume.

A half-hour later, when Peeta loudly trudges down the stairs, I speak normally. "Hungry?" I ask, pulling out a chair in which he sits himself in.

"Not really" he closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands.

I laugh, "Yes, you are" I say, and push the plate of eggs towards him.

He picks up his fork and just before he touches his breakfast he looks up at me and says, "I love you."

I sigh and look away. "Peeta. . ." I whine.

"No, don't say anything. I love you, okay? Just let me say it. I love you." His eyes and tone of voice speak determination and positiveness.

I just look at him and try conjure words to tell him back, something comforting and reassuring, but who could say something comforting to that. Who could say anything to that.

So I don't. I just smile, flatten down the wild hairs on his head, and whisper, "Okay." He smiles, then resumes himself to breakfast.

And this becomes routine.

We wake up. Eggs for breakfast. Peeta telling me "I love you." Me not saying it back. Baking and Hunting. The book. The fire. The paintings. Haymitch. Supper. Sleep.

Every day. But soon, after 3 months, it becomes well worth it.

_We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. _

"Haymitch, the trough is empty." Peeta kicks the empty container back into the wall.

Haymitch snorts and then takes another drink. "They're still alive, aren't they?" he asked.

Peeta looks sadly at the geese roaming freely throughout the exactly one-half acre perimeter of Haymitch's backyard. "You can't just take care for them when you feel like it," he grabs the bottle out of Haymitch's hand, "or run out of alcohol."

Haymitch grasps wildly for the dark glass bottle, but Peeta holds it at arms length from himself, and soon enough, Haymitch waves his hand and gives up on it.

"Why do you have them?" I ask Haymitch, "The geese, I mean."

"Listen, sweetheart, you need to learn to just, not ask questions" He flips himself over so that he is face down on the seat in a somewhat awkward position.

I roll my eyes. "I just asked one question, but it seems as if you're too drunk to handle it so I'll keep my mouth shut."

Haymitch laughs, "Ooh, getting mean. I like it". He looks over at me slowly and in his usual condescending tone he says "I got them to keep me sober." And I let out a snort.

"Well, let me know how well it works out for you" I say and walk over to Peeta, who is sitting on the grass, feeding bread crumbs to the passing geese.

From the doorway, I can hear Haymitch say, "It's working out _fantastically_" as he walks back inside the house.

He's had too much 'sun exposure' today, as he likes to claim, but we all know he's not big on fresh air.

"I want geese" Peeta says, and strokes the folded wings of the bird. "Do you think Haymitch would mind if I kept a few." He looks up at me, in all seriousness.

"No, he doesn't even to seem to notice them now." I say, "But, do we really need geese?"

"Of course we do" Peeta says in mock hurtfulness, "Imagine how much better our lives would be if we had just a few geese roaming the house!" he exclaims.

I shake my head in amusement, "and messier." I add.

"Oh, but isn't it already?" Peeta leans over and kisses me, pulling his lips back for a moment, and letting my lips linger with nothing to touch but the air between us. We both laugh, and he latches them delicately on to mine.

And his lips, _oh his lips_, are perfectly sweet. They're perfectly soft and perfectly perfect in every way.

If I could just kiss Peeta's lips every day, I would be more than happy. From whenever the sun rises, until the moon takes it's place. Every day, every minute, every second, I could kiss him, and feel his lips on mine.

So, when his lips detach themselves from mine, "please" I let out an involuntary whimper and lean my head back up to capture his lips.

Instead I find flesh.

His two fingers have been brought to my lips and he pecks them quickly and says, "let's go home."

I throw back my head and let out a more than audible groan. Peeta just laughs and takes my hand as we race across the street back to my house, _our house. _

Again, by routine we sit by the coal burning fire, eat stew, and kiss until our lips our raw and tender. But, I can't help but fall in love with some parts of routine.

Even after it becomes tedious.

Even after Peeta falls asleep and finally, _finally, _after months I have the courage to tell him "I love you, too."

But It's too late, he's already asleep. He hasn't heard me and he might never hear me say it again.

Because it's not a part of the routine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Back to Green Ch. 7**

He didn't hear me, though, some part of me wishes he maybe had have.

It was only reinforced when Peeta woke up and began doing everything he normally does.

"I love you" says he. Again.

_I think I do, too _"Tea?" I ask and he nods.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're ever going to tell me back one day." He accepts the piping hot mug.

_I already have _"Sugar?" he nods again.

"I just keep thinking that maybe, you will love me just as much" stinging drops of tea splash just outside of the mug itself from me ungracefully dropping in the sugar cubes.

_I do. I know I do. _"Toast?-"

"_Damn it Katniss!_" Peeta stands. "Can you not _listen_ to me?" this tone of voice is new.

He breathes heavy, though no exertion had been done. I'm shocked, at least. Furious, at most.

I swallow, "I-I don't know" I shake my head in shock. Peeta flares his nostrils and with a final glance down at the table, he walks towards the door. "Peeta, wait!" I call out.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even look back. All he does is shut the door behind him, not a single proceeding word.

I sigh, watching him through the window look to his left, then his right, and then run out across the barley-paved road.

He's so upset, and it's my fault.

I wish I could tell him, I really do. But I just _can't._ I cannot seem to tell him.

I never had thought it would have escalated to the point where I feel almost guilty. Although, I'm assuming today will be filled with surprises.

At some point, I'm not sure when, I hear a faint, strangled yelp coming from one of the corners of the room. My feet begin to follow the sound, although no thought has been thought.

It's Buttercup.

I huff. "Where," I pick him up, "did you come from, you stupid cat." He hisses harshly at me and I hiss back.

Shaking my head I turn to the door to drop him outside, but he whimpers and hops behind me.

I throw my head back and slowly descend into a squat. He's sitting there almost innocently and I meet his ugly eyes, color of rotten squash.

Whining, "No, I know what you're doing, and I'm not letting you stay." I nudge him, "out you stupid cat."

But Buttercup doesn't move, and after a while, neither do I.

More whining in hopes of sympathy. And it's starting to work.

"Okay." I whisper a few moments after, and I let my knees straighten, sitting fully on the ground now. I stoke his straw-like fur and wrinkle my face in disgust as stray hairs stick to my moist palm.

He purrs gently.

"I hate you" I say nonchalantly. He purrs some more.

Slowly, my strokes soften and my breath slows down. Buttercup has calmed me. Made me feel comfortable around him, something I never thought would happen.

_Just as I had thought, full of surprises. _

"Peeta left, Prim's dead," I look over at the now sleeping Buttercup, "and I'm talking to a sleeping cat." I sarcastically laugh and the cat does absolutely nothing.

Rain falls again and suddenly I am happy that Buttercup isn't out in it.

_But Peeta is. _I think.

"Is it my fault?" I ask Buttercup, "That Peeta left, I mean. Did he really leave because of me?" Silence.

A hand comes out of nowhere and caresses my cheek. I jump a bit but relax when I realize who's hand it is.

"It's not your fault." Peeta whispers and smiles a little, his head hanging down, "it's not your fault at all. It's mine." he looks up, "I'm sorry" he leans into me and captures my lips.

I want to apologize. I want to scream. I want to cry. And I want to kiss him back.

But I can only choose one, and I choose the kiss.

He pulls away after a minute and just stares at me solemnly.

I open my mouth. _Say it. Tell him you love him, just say it. _"where'd you go?" is what I ask and mentally thump my forehead for not telling him.

"It's not important," he says and extends his hand towards me, helping me to my feet. Buttercup awakens with a shake of the fur and walks off somewhere. "Do you want to eat? You haven't eaten since morning."

I shake my head, "How would you know?" I question.

His hand extends towards the kitchen, "because all the food is still there." He's right. The eggs are cold and the toast is stale, but it's still there.

"Oh."

He laughs, "Come on, then." he says with a huge grin and leads me out of the house, a bit fast.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" I giggle youthfully, something I don't usually do.

Nothing is said, he just sprints down the street, towards the meadow. My mouth drops open as he runs and runs, never looking back. The rain falls steadily, slowly soaking it's way through my clothes.

I sprint up to catch up with him.

"Wow, finally, I was afraid my lack of a second leg would slow me down, but you, Katniss Everdeen, never cease to prove me wrong." He winks charmingly, still running.

"Well," I pant, "you had a head start" I slow down and gasp in a large amount of air, "but I'm all caught up now." And I sprint faster than I've ever sprinted before.

I run past Peeta, who is cheering me on over-enthusiastically and I laugh out loud. I look behind and he shakes the rain out of his hair, but he's almost upon me. I have to go faster.

It's too late, he's grabbed ahold of my hand and is pulling me now. And we run together. And then I spot a chopped down tree stump. Not entire gone yet, but still not entirely there.

I just wish I would have spotted it before I tripped.

I fly forwards and let out a high pitched scream as I plummet towards the wet pavement, but I'm holding on to something. I roll over and as my back hits the ground, knocking the wind out of me, Peeta does the same, falling with me. And we roll. Roll down the street for several yards, still laughing, still soaking.

As we slow down I regain my awareness and stop us.

But not before I land directly on top oh Peeta, my breath slowly catching.

Breathing heavily, I look down at him, noting our awkward position. I don't know what to say, so I just stare, and breathe, _hard. _

But Peeta is still grinning, "I asked you to run with me, not give me a concussion sweetheart." The rain is landing just on top of his eyelashes, and it's beautiful. He's beautiful. I bury my head into his pulsating chest.

"Shut up." I bring my face back up, and it is only inches away from his. His smile dies down as he brushes a stray hair behind my ear.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you this morning" He whispers.

"It's all right, I'm not upset-"

"But you are," he kisses my lips, "and I'm sorry." He takes his index finger, and lightly taps my tip of my nose, replacing his finger with his puckered lips, soon after.

A shiver runs down my spine, as I feel suddenly very cold.

He lets his lips linger on my nose, and after I savor the feeling of his lips on my dampened skin I long for the feeling of his lips on my own.

So I roughly pull his chin down, and kiss his lips with gently force. And he is caught off guard, he is surprised.

But, I am begging to enjoy these surprises.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: this story is not over, even though the ending might make readers think so. **_

_**thank you all for reading this story this far I really, truly appreciate it**_

* * *

If I recall correctly, that night of the rain kisses was one of the most magical nights of my life. Truly and Wholeheartedly.

After Peeta and I shared our lips with each other, we went home, only to repeat ourselves.

It was around lunchtime, maybe after, but we didn't eat. Not a single thing. Nor were either of us particularly hungry.

Peeta suggested we work on the book, and I obliged.

Things were shifting towards the abstract idea of normal I once had.

Peeta was drawing the morphlings from 6, paying extra attention to the way their bones seemed to protrude from their skin. And I was sitting near, dictating him, telling him to pay extra attention to the way their bones seemed to protrude from their skin.

It wasn't until I stopped speaking, and Peeta's hand stop moving, that I assumed he was finished.

"Let me see," I go to reach for the sketch but he pulls it away from me.

I look at him, confused, and tilt my head to the side in question.

"Don't say anything." He says and I nod as he reluctantly hands me the thin sheet of parchment paper.

And it's not the morphlings, it's me.

My head is tilted to the side just as it was before and the ends of my lips tug up into a shy smile, and my eyes. Oh, my eyes look brilliant. More beautiful than ever. I am more beautiful than ever.

"Peeta…" I trail off, speechless, "I don't know what to say," I stammer out.

He laughs lightly, "Don't say anything." He repeats quietly and he kisses me.

The lights are not yet dim and the air smells stale with spoiling food, but it's perfect.

Everything is perfect, and everything is different.

Behind the kiss is the sweetness and love that I regularly seek on Peeta's lips, but they're something new. Lust, maybe? Desire?

Not the passion he's given me before, but something more.

And with every move of his lips, I fall in love with Peeta Mellark even more.

He breaks away for a brief moment, very brief. Only to say, "I love you."

"mhm" I mumble, without even a part of my lips, before I pull Peeta towards me again by the back of his neck, not even being peculiarly gentle.

His head jerks back. "No, Katniss, look at me," and I do. "I," he cups my cheek, "love," I can feel his damp breath on the peak of my mouth, "you."

"Are you going to kiss me?" I whimper.

"Will the sun come up tomorrow?" I nod, "Then, I will kiss you."

I smile, "Okay," and I reach up to kiss his lips, but he only allows a small peck. I roll my eyes, "Why won't you kiss me?" I argue with traces of hostility, although Peeta is not taken back.

"Because, there's a small chance you might not love me" he confesses.

"But, Peeta, you can't say that!" I exclaim.

"Why not? Is it not true?" his face quickly softens, "Oh, Katniss, please tell me that it's not true." He grabs my wrists very gently and I find my self gazing back into those beautiful blue eyes.

_I need to tell him. _

_But I cannot._

"I'm sorry" I murmur quietly, hanging my head.

Peeta sighs once more and stands, "Come on," he holds out his hand and I reach to grab hold of it.

He takes me to sleep, but we do not sleep. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"What would you say if I told you that the reason I'm not telling you back is because I'm afraid?" I calmly blurt out as I stare at the ceiling.

Peeta rolls onto his side to glance at me, although I am still looking at the ceiling. He clears his throat, "I would say that Katniss Everdeen isn't afraid of anything," I smile, "but I would also tell you that you should not be afraid, because I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, and I will _always_ love you." He reaches out to stroke my hair, and I shudder.

At times, I am grateful that Peeta is so genuine and touching with every word that he speaks. But at others, I am trapped. I have not the slightest clue what to say back.

Gale comes to mind, again. What would he think of our affair? Would he have known it would have happened anyways? Would he have been in a rage of jealousy and demanded I rethink myself because that's what I haven't been doing enough of? Thinking?

No, that isn't it. If anything, I think too much.

"Peeta?" I ask

"Yes?" His voice is groggy, but he is not tired.

"Do you think that if one of us had not been reaped, you and I would be here?" I roll myself over to look at him now, and his beauty never ceases to amaze me with every glance.

He snorts, "I'm not sure, Katniss," he grabs ahold of my chin gently and when our faces are only inches away, he whispers, "you still intimidate me."

He kisses me through my laugh until I stop laughing.

That night, _I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach. I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. _

So I decide for myself, and so does Peeta.

And that night would live on for me as the night that I gave myself to Peeta Mellark, in more ways than one, and I was sure of it.

_What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, not matter how bad our losses. That I can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. _

I kiss him as he's drifting on to sleep and silently thank him for everything he's done for me, because I never truly appreciated it.

And then after, before he is finally asleep and our day has completely shown on the wariness of his face, _he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" _

_I tell him, "Real." _

He smiles broadly, "So you do love me?" he asks with a mixture of disbelief and utter happiness.

I cannot hide my grin. I nod, even though he can't see me in the darkness,

"Yes, Peeta. I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Back to Green Ch. 9**

When I wake up, I am cold. Almost freezing, actually.

The duvet is covering me, and it is the _only _thing covering me.

My head spins around and Peeta is sleeping calmly. His exposed chest allows me to assume that he, as well, is in the same state as I am. _Bare. _

Last night, I told Peeta I loved him. I meant it.

But what happened afterwards was an act of passion. Which, along with others, happens sporadically.

I am not fully awake, not fully functioning as I think of everything. But I am, for certain, confused.

No, that word doesn't describe it properly.

Hurt?

No, Peeta would never do anything to hurt me. If, of course, he was still himself.

_How do you feel? What do you feel? _I demand answers. I demand myself to know myself.

_Adulterated _

It hits me, like the time I fell from the tree and all the wind was knocked out of me, like the time it wasn't my name that Effie had called, but that of Primrose Everdeen.

The air becomes heavy and my breath catches far, far in the back of my throat, where nor myself or any other could find it. I choke. On my tears, and then on my breaths, and eventually I choke on my own chokes and I can't seem to breathe.

Peeta is still sleeping. Why wont he wake up?

_Peeta _I try to call _Peeta wake up, please Peeta. Please wake up! _

I turn to my side and with all my might, I shake him. But it's no use, he is lifeless.

I resort to violently striking the side of his cheek with my palm. And I resort to it over and over again. But his body remains drained of existence, and he is not waking up.

I scream.

Excruciatingly loud. So loud that one might fear I would wake the non living, which would help me immensely. But nothing comes out.

_Peeta get up! _Nothing. _Wake up please! What is happening? Listen to me, Peeta. WHAT IS HAPPENING? _

"KATNISS!"

My vision is crusty. I sharply intake my very first breath of the day. I stare into Peeta's groggy morning eyes, waken slightly with brief alarm.

"Peeta?" I test out my voice, and it is audible. I throw my head back with relief.

Peeta's face softens. "Katniss, is everything all right?" He lays back down on his side.

I nod, but he cannot see me, "Yes, I just had a bad dream." I admit.

He laughs, "Well, I thought you were done with those" he snakes his hand through the covering and locates mine, grasping on to it firmly, before bringing it to his lips and placing a sweet, gentle kiss.

I blush, "I guess not," and without thinking, I whip off the blanket and stand, only to be greeted with a fresh gust of cool air that sends shivers down my spine.

It is only then I realize that I was, in fact, nude.

I squint my eyes shut tightly while I mentally curse myself for not thinking.

I let out a breath and turn slowly, and I am suddenly grateful for all the Capitol did to my body, as to make it seemingly perfect.

When I meet Peeta's eyes, they're looking back into mine.

They are not looking away, or worse, trailing downwards. They are meeting mine, as if that's all he sees.

I bow my head down bashfully while Peeta utters one word: "Beautiful."

I frown gently and squint my eyes even more, "What?"

He sits up, "You're so beautiful, Katniss." I start to shake my head in protest when he stops me, "No, You're perfect." He extends his hand to me and I take it, sitting back down on the bed right in front of him, "And I love you." he whispers.

"I love you, too." I whisper back.

He cups my cheek and says, "I'm so glad to hear that, Katniss, you have no idea." Then, he kisses me.

It's a bit awkward at first, considering my lack of clothing, but I soon find that spark, and the events of the night before repeat themselves. And I do not regret a single thing.

Afterwards, I glance at the ticking clock behind our heads, and to my surprise it reads: 1:36.

I jump up and quickly hassle on my nightgown as Peeta mutters groans of protest.

"Come back to bed." he whines, and reaches his arms out to me.

I laugh at his juvenile actions, "We haven't even had breakfast yet, Peeta." I state, and shut the door behind me.

I can hear his annoyed groan from behind the closed door, and I giggle gently to myself.

Over lunch, Peeta asks, "Is this breakfast or lunch?" he scarfs down his bacon rather quickly.

"Lunch?" I tell him, it coming out sounding more like a question, "Anyway, who cares, you're eating." I point to Peeta's now clean plate of food.

He pushes the plate out, "I wasn't very hungry in the first place." He says stubbornly, also being in complete seriousness.

I laugh, "_Okay" _I say sarcastically.

As Peeta is rinsing off his plate he asks, "Can we do something today?" and looks back at me hopefully.

"We already did." I point out.

He grins happily and looks down, "Yeah, I know. But can we go somewhere?" he comes and joins me on the couch.

"What do you mean?"

He exasperatedly sighs, "I mean we actually do something other than sit in this house-"

"_The Woods!" _I jump up. "Peeta, lets go to the woods! Oh, I haven't gone in ages!" I cry out.

He looks at me startled, "Okay," he says warily, "let's go to the woods!" he cheers with mock-excitement and I smile gratefully at him for doing all he does for me.

Our hunting trip goes unexpectedly well today.

Peeta doesn't make a sound. Not a single one. Which is odd for me, as I did not have the implication that Peeta Mellark had an option to be silent.

Also, I show him how to use the bow. I give him my fathers reluctantly, but after observing how accurate his aim was, I relaxed more.

"I can't believe you can shoot" I tell him as I pick up the lifeless squirrel from underneath the leaves. It got hit straight to the body, and, most likely, no one would want to eat it. But that thing was going surprisingly fast. And Peeta was learning at a rapid rate.

"Neither did I." he admits, and buries the poor thing back into the leaves. He pecks my lips, "I guess you're just an excellent teacher."

I chuckle, "I guess I am."


	10. Chapter 10

**Back to Green Ch. 10**

It's been like this for quite a while now.

Every single day I wake up and the first thing I see is Peeta, and I cannot find a reason to mind it at all.

I love it. I love him.

I brush his now-overgrown bangs out of his closed eyes and plant a feather kiss just slightly on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes flutter awake.

"Katniss. . ." he moans.

"Shh," I hush, "stay in bed for a while."

He clears his throat and sits upright, wiping the sleepiness out of his eyes with closed fists. "I cant," he says with the night still evident in his voice, "I want to go back to the bakery today."

Oh, no.

Surely he remembers?

If I tell him will it just ignite another episode? He hasn't had those in so long. I can't even remember the last time I had to hold his hands still to his chest while he cried out.

"Peeta, dear," I close my palm around his exposed shoulder, "the bakery isn't there anymore. It's gone, remember? It burned down."

I don't elaborate more because I can't bring myself to tell him why.

He licks his lips and stands anyways, "Im not idiotic."

"Of course not" I blurt out while absentmindedly gazing at his bare back and chest and anything else I can see whilst he attaches his leg and start to dress.

He's buttoning up his shirt when he finally says, "Then you would know that I am fully aware that the bakery burned down during the bomb, killing my family." There isn't one bit of emotion in his voice, and if there is, I can't detect it.

I sigh, "Peeta. . ."

"You would also know that I'm going to go there anyway, to rebuild it." I shake my head in confusion, "Katniss, I want to reopen the bakery" he confesses with a slightly childish giddiness that makes his eyes light up and he kneels beside me, near our bed.

I smile big, "Thats. . . Great!" and he smiles to match me.

"Really?"

"Truly."

I lift the blankets over top my chest to conceal myself as I lean over and kiss him before he leaves.

"I love you so much," he whispers quietly against my lips. I say it back. I mean it, too.

And the second that Peeta leaves is also the second I realize how much I would miss him if he did reopen the bakery.

I never really realized how. . . Complete I feel with him near me. Without him I would feel empty.

Peeta's been by my side 24/7 for months now.

Peeta, born in the beginnings of February, who is my senior by a mere four months.

He's almost nineteen, but we're both still children.

It's surreal to think about. If we were back in the old District 12, Peeta would already be a working man. I would already be willing to marry. I don't know with whom, Gale probably. Which is even more surreal to think about, because I'm sure the only one I'd be willing to marry now is Peeta.

But everything is different.

A good different, I suppose, but I cannot seem to fathom why Peeta not being by my side always is "good."

So I ignore it and go to sleep instead.

When I wake up, the smell of fresh supper is filling the room. Is it lunch or supper?

I look at the ticking clock: 3:22.

It's lunch.

I make my way downstairs wearing nothing but a thin nightgown that was lying around near my bed and Peeta smirks when he sees me.

"Good morning," he smooths down some of my disheveled hair, "sleep well?"

I take a seat at the table and sloppily scoop multiple spoons of potatoes and squirrel gravy on my plate. It smells so good.

"How do you know how to make gravy?" I ask him, ignoring the glances he gives me.

"I don't." He scoops some onto his plate as well and starts to dig in, "But Sae does. She made this for us." I nod my head, "She wanted to see how you were doing."

"Did you tell her I'm wonderful?"

"No, I told her you were better."

"Oh." I nonchalantly smile at him and scoop up more potatoes. These potatoes are so good.

"She's going to help me rebuild the bakery." He eyes me suspiciously.

"That's good." I admit, averting his strong gaze.

"Are you avoiding something?" He asks, "Do you not want me to do this?"

I look up at him and his expression softens. For a second, I feel a pang of guilt.

Am I being selfish feeling this way?

Most likely.

"Katniss. . ." Peeta grabs my hand, "Talk to me sweetheart, I wont do this do this if you don't want me to."

I squint my eyes shut.

There goes Peeta, again. Being the most selfless person you could ever meet. Sitting there being so considerate while you sit back, do nothing, and feel like a useless jerk.

What if he does leave.

There have been loads of foolish Capitol women who've since the games immigrated to District Twelve in order to be in the same district as the "Star Crossed Lovers," who aren't really "Star Crossed" anymore.

It would be a shame if one of them took an interest in Peeta, and I wasn't there to stop it from happening.

Is that a good enough reason to not want him to leave me.

"I want you to," I confess, "but I don't want to be alone."

He sighs, knowing my underlying meaning. He knows I don't want him with anyone else. He knows I want to selfishly keep him by my side at all times, so no one can even look at him in the way that I always do.

"Alone? You think I would ever leave you alone?" He stands, "I made a promise to you, Katniss! I made a promise to you! I made a promise that I would stay with you!"

I tilt my head to the ground and whisper: "always."

He bends over and lifts my chin up to look at him, "That's right, always. Now tell me, Katniss, do you think I would _ever _leave you?" His eyes are solemn.

And I don't stop myself, "Stranger things have happened."

He doesn't respond. He just stands and walks out of the door. Pausing briefly before turning around and looking straight into my eyes.

"Sae also wanted to know when you would marry me. What should I tell her?"

"Tell her that her squirrel gravy is phenomenal."


	11. Chapter 11

**Back to Green Ch. 11**

We made love that evening.

Given, it was not true. It was simply a part of the routine.

But then afterwards, when Peeta sunk his sweaty torso onto mine, being careful to not hurt me, even though we were in an argument, he whispers into my hair: "Marry me."

I know it's not his heart talking, it's his lust, but I choose to believe it anyways. "Someday."

"Promise me?"

"I swear to it."

And he rolls off of me and nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck. "Katniss."

"Mmm" I moan out, because I cant say anything else, because his lips feel so good on my neck.

Because I just agreed to marry the boy with the bread.

"Thank you."

"For what" I croak out.

"Im not sure." he admits, "But thank you anyways."

And then he falls asleep.

When I wake up, Peeta is fully dressed and is fumbling around in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He turns around quickly and walks over to me with a shy smile.

"Good morning." I say warily but he doesn't say it back.

He kneels down next to me and brings his closed fist to lay on top of my hands as he gently rubs my knuckles with his free hand.

He lets out a breath and opens his fist, and on his palm is a dull, worn-out ring that gleams in only one place. This is _the ring._

"I wanted to give you this for a while now, and I'm sorry I can't think of a better way to do so. But, I know nothing impresses Katniss Everdeen, so I'll just be blunt about this."

"Peeta," I breathe out, "Where did you find this? How did you get this?" I want to ask him a million more questions. Why he kept the ring he first proposed to me with. Given, it was merely for the cameras, but why would he keep it?

"I never lost it. I haven't let it go this entire time." His eyes are sincere.

"But, why?"

He looks down and smirks, "Because this was the closest thing I'd have to marrying you."

I shake my head in mixed disbelief and astonishment. I disregard the sheets and my timidness and walk over to the bottom drawer in my nightstand. I ignore Peeta's questions.

Surely its here, isn't it? I haven't fiddled with it in days.

It's there. Enveloped in the shiny silver parachute, is my pearl.

Frantically, I walk back over to Peeta and place the pearl delicately in his still-open palm. His eyes go wide.

"You kept it." he blurts out finally.

"I did," I nod my head gently, finally apprehending what's going on. "I always did."

Peeta wipes away my tear that I hadn't realized had fallen.

"Don't cry or I'm never going to let you live it down." he smiles and I cant help let another tear fall.

And another. And a few more.

And then somewhere in the midst of my sobs and Peeta's desperate attempts to hush me, I realize that this is what love is supposed to feel like.

Something that physically hurts you rather than makes you feel 'good' inside.

Love is something inevitable, you're going to have to fall at some point. My person just happens to be Peeta, and I'll always be grateful for it to be him.

When I'm certain I can speak without crying like an idiot, I mutter: "I am so in love with you. I think I've always been in love with you. I think thats why I kept the pearl."

"So why didn't you tell me?" Peeta asks while toying with my fingers.

I laugh a shaky chuckle, "I've no idea." I wipe my eyes again, "I don't even think I knew I did, I just. . .did."

"That's comforting." He picks the ring up again and swirls it around the tip of my ring finger. "You know, you haven't properly agreed to marry me yet."

"Oh, really? I thought it was pretty obvious." I close my fist and drop the ring back into his hand.

"Yeah well apparently not."

I smile to myself, "Well, I think it's because you have to properly proposed to me yet."

He sighs in aggravation, "Well what do you want me to do? Get down on one knee? I don't know if you've noticed, Katniss, but all I've got is one." I cross my legs and he adjusts himself to lay on his stomach in front of me.

"I can make an exception for the crippled."

Peeta groans and holds the ring in two hands between us. "Will you marry me, Katniss?"

Even though I'm already sure of myself, I take an extra-long time to think about my answer, just because I know it would drive him absolutely insane.

I know he was taking extra precautions to ask me to marry him again because he's right, I never did truly accept his ring. And I know he would have felt too assertive by putting the ring on my finger without making sure I was okay with it.

I clear my throat and tilt my chin up, "What, no long soliloquy? How am I supposed to remember this moment for my entire life."

He groans, "You know, I'm starting to think I should revoke my previous proposition."

"There's no need to do that, my love." I grin.

He grins back, "And why is that?"

"Because yes, I will marry you."

Peeta smiles even wider and takes my hand to gently and slowly slip on the ring, then he holds it up to admire.

I pull up his chin and dip my head down to chastely kiss him, and I know I can probably never be happy, and I'd be wasting my time if I were to desperately search for happiness. But none of that matters at the moment, or moments to come.

Love and happiness are not all that different.

I can love Peeta with everything I have and find that he is my happiness.

And that's more than I could ever ask for.


	12. Chapter 12

**Back to Green Ch. 12**

My mother was less than ecstatic when I told her that Peeta and I would be wed. Which, admittedly, is what I expected, considering I was only eighteen and Peeta had just turned nineteen yesterday.

And so I handed over the telephone to Peeta and he spoke with his golden tongue for a few minutes. Then, eventually, she had a change of heart.

We told Haymitch, but he was drunk.

Then we went home because we didn't have anyone else to tell.

Peeta told me he was going to bake something for the morning, so I went to remove myself of my day clothes, to bathe and to go to sleep. If it wasn't for Peeta desperately crying out my name from the living room, I would have done all the above.

I raced down the stairs in such a frenzy. I had removed my muddy hunting pants and was trotting through the house wearing nothing but a small t-shirt and my underwear.

I slowed down and came to a complete stop when I saw Peeta sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. It was so upsetting, so depressing that I almost shed a tear right then and there, just at the sight of him.

I sat right next to him and stroked his back almost maternally.

"All of our friends are dead." Peeta said with blatancy as he buried the back of his head in my lap. I toyed with his locks for a while, but he swatted my hand away.

"Not all of them."

"Yes, but most of them are."

I grabbed hold of his good knee firmly, "It's okay. It's okay Peeta, we can have a small wedding, just you and I," he seemed unconvinced, "Hey, we don't even have to have a wedding at all, if you don't want to."

"That's not how I want it to be. That's not how you want it to be."

I sighed out, "Peeta," he reached for my hand, which was now resting delicately on his chest, and brought it back to his head. When I began gently twirling his curls, he breathed a sound of relief, "I love you." I told him because I couldn't console him in any other way.

"Change the subject, will you."

We sat there for a half hour or so and just when I thought for sure Peeta was asleep, he turned over and looked at me with droopy eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him.

He shakes his head in confusion and then closes his eyes tightly.

The corners of my lips turn up slightly and my hand ruffles through his hair with more gentle aggravation, more sweet vigor. "What is it?" I ask once again.

He shakes his head once more, "Christ, I love you so much."

And I'm not entirely sure what it was about that sentence, but a flame that had been put aside for, as it felt, years had re-engulfed itself in the pit of my stomach, and my insides were set on burning, steamy, passionate fire.

I gently take his head off of my lap and stand up. Peeta absentmindedly readjusts himself so that his body was sprawled out along the full length of the couch.

"Peeta," he didn't here me, "Peeta!" I said, louder.

He jumps quickly out of his sleeping daze and looks around. Once he realizes there was no one else here he looks straight at me, annoyed.

For some reason I couldn't get out of my mind how handsome Peeta looked. Rugged, tired, and worn out for a reason I could not conjure, but he was so handsome.

So, "Kiss me." I tell him.

"Come here." he tells me back.

I went to lay atop his jarred, but strong body. And, he kissed me.

His lips were eclectic. Demanding yet yielding yet loving yet everything you could ever possibly think of. He tasted like peppermint whiskey. The one that he took from Haymitch because he didn't want him to have so much alcohol available to him, but I knew he wanted it for himself.

His eyes are shut, tight, in deep concentration. He wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be perfect. I could smell the gingerbread and cheese buns baking, and slowly burning, in the oven. But they will not burn as hot or bright as this moment. For they, will someday, extinguish. And my love for Peeta, and his for me, will not. Not now. Not ever.

I hear his gentle moan before he secures his hands in my hair and looks right into my eyes. "I can't control myself around you, Katniss Everdeen."

I rub my hands up and down his arm, eliciting goosebumps, and a gentle shudder. "Then don't."

I look back up to him and he looks, dare I say it, pained.

After a while of Peeta staying silent, I nudge his chest with some force.

"Say something," I hit him again, "Say something, please."

One of his hands goes back to smooth out the hair that I tousled, while the other grazes my exposed thigh.

"What do you want me to say, Katniss? That I love you too? That I can kiss you now, and then make love to you and then it will all be fine. That we can go back to ignoring our deceased, their non-existent graves collecting hypothetical dust?"

Even when he's speaking about such depressing thing it still sounds damn beautiful.

I bend back down and run my lips down the stubble on his neck. "Yes." I whimper.

He scoffs, "Could you quit that for a moment, please." I move my lips over to gently tickle his ear and he fights back his chuckles. "Stop," he laughs lightheartedly, "Stop," he says again, more sternly.

I snap my head back up to him to look at him square in the face.

It's a persistent staring contest until Peeta's lips start to twitch and his melodic laughter fills the room. I, too, begin to giggle gently.

Moments later, the muscles in my stomach begin to tense as I am doubled over in laughter. Peeta covers his face in shame, but I know that he is only doing so to hide his giant grin.

Once we calm down Peeta reaches over to stroke my hair and the side of my face. "I'm not going to ask you to grow up," he says, "But I am going to recommend that you acknowledge our problems enough to ponder over them once in a while."

"I'll take it into consideration."

"Good." he sighs and grabs hold of my hips in his hands. "Plus," he gives me a gentle squeeze, "I love making love to you too much."


End file.
